


Blake's Christmas Gift

by Funtimewriter



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, Fiction based on art, For Ironic Pheasant, I wrote this to fulfill a ransom demand, M/M, Merry Christmas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funtimewriter/pseuds/Funtimewriter
Summary: Blake gets a very special Christmas gift in his stocking





	Blake's Christmas Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IronicPheasant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicPheasant/gifts).



> Ironic Pheasant kidnapped my Christmas Shevine beans and demanded Shevine as ransom, so I loaded up on the Diet Pepsi and wrote this on my break at work. Fifteen minutes of writing did the trick, I'm happy to say! My beans were returned safe and happy and still drunk in their stocking. In fact, they had such a good time playing with her that they're quite willing to continue being her profile picture! The art that inspired this piece is yet another awesome work from our Nut and can be seen at the end. Merry Christmas!
> 
> Song in my head for this piece: "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas"  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHVIVNoIPVM

            Ah, the sights of Christmas.  The twin stockings hanging from the fireplace, where a cheerful fire provided light.  The twinkling lights of the tree that glinted off of tinsel and ornaments.  The electric candles shining in the windows.  The drunken idiot that giggled at the base of the tree.

            Adam was missing one motorcycle boot and his shirt.  His jeans were stained with whatever it was he’d been drinking tonight.  The words “Merry Christmas” had been written across his chest with what appeared to be red lipstick.  More lipstick decorated his cheek in the shape of a pair of lips.  On his head, a pair of reindeer antlers perched, and a Santa Claus hat topped that.  Well, Blake thought, at least Adam wasn’t in drag, like he’d been the last time he’d gotten this drunk at Halloween.  He supposed he should count his blessings.

            At any rate, Adam was clearly too drunk to stand.  He rolled instead, heading towards the fireplace.  He tried twice, missed both times, and then finally succeeded in pulling down the stocking with Blake’s name on it.  Then he got it on his shoeless foot the second try.  “Blaaaaake!” he called.  “I’m in your stocking!”

            Blake chuckled.  “Does that mean you’re my Christmas present this year?”

            “Yeah!”  The idea appeared to delight Adam.  He started giggling uncontrollably again, doing some sort of half crawl and half fall along the floor that defied the laws of locomotion, moving in the general direction of the leftover Christmas wrappings next to the fireplace.

            “What are you doing?” Blake slurred.  “Oh, never mind.  Adam, you’re too drunk to have any idea what you’re doing, aren’t you?”

            “I do what I’m knowing!”

            “Of course you do.”  The country artist leaned back in his chair, enjoying the view of his boyfriend sprawling among the extra wrapping paper, ribbon, and bows.

            Adam picked up a tube of paper and shook it in Blake’s general direction.  “You’re drunk!” he accused.

            “That I am.”  Blake closed his eyes for a moment.  The room was spinning again.  “Here’s the difference.  We’re both drunk off our asses from that party, Rockstar.  If someone hadn’t driven us home, we’d probably both be passed out on the floor somewhere.  But I’m a much better drunk than you are.”

            “Bullshit!”

            “No, I am,” Blake insisted.  He opened his eyes, smiling at the sight of Adam trying to manage wrapping paper when he clearly couldn’t see straight.  “See, I was hitting the Smithworks and while I can’t walk right now, I can at least think semi-clearly.  You, on the other hand, went one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor!”

            Adam cackled.  He tore off some of the paper and plastered it over his face.  “Wrap me up!” he sang from under the paper.  He displayed his foot in Blake’s stocking.  “I’m your Christmas present!  C’mere and wrap me up?”

            Now Blake laughed.  “You want me to wrap you?”

            “Yeah!  With ribbons and bows!”

            “How’s come I have to wrap my own present?”

            “Because I’m too fucking drunk!” Adam informed him.  He let his arms flop at his sides.  “And I think I’m gonna pass out soon.”

            Blake snorted.  “I think you’re gonna pass out now.”

            “Ok!”  And almost immediately, Adam started snoring.

            Blake looked at him for a moment.  Then he stood up.  He immediately fell down, landing flat-out on the floor, arms and legs splayed and eyes blinking.  Blake paused, waiting for the room to spin a little less.  Eventually, he felt safe to crawl.  How the hell had he gotten into the house?  He had no idea.

            The sound of a six and a half foot body hitting the floor near him had roused Adam.  He opened one bleary hazel eye.  “You alright?”

            “Yup.”  Of course he was alright.  He was so drunk he’d been perfectly loose when he’d hit the floor.  Blake managed to crawl to his boyfriend’s side.  He shook his head, eyeing the lipstick on Adam’s chest.  “Why the hell did you let Christina write on you?”

            “You told her to do it!” Adam accused.  “Then you held me still so I couldn’t get away while she wrote on me!”

            “I did not!”

            “You did so!  She kissed us and I started making fun of the lipstick mark on your cheek…”

            “I have lipstick on my cheek?”  Blake rubbed at his cheek and blinked in surprise at the red substance on his hand.  It was the same color as the lipstick that decorated Adam.

            “Yeah!” Adam confirmed.  “I made fun of you, so you pushed me down on my knees and pulled off my shirt and held my arms…”

            “Like hell!”

            “You did it, you asshole!”  Adam found the tube of wrapping paper and swung it at Blake, missing by about a foot.  “You told her that if I liked lipstick so much, she should give me a bit more.  And then you held me still while she wrote on my chest!  I couldn’t get loose and everyone was laughing!”

            Had that really happened?  Blake thought hard, and managed to pull out a deeply pickled memory of himself at the party.  Adam was on his knees in front of Christina in her chair, shirtless and struggling.  He recalled holding Adam’s arms, laughing until tears streaked his cheeks while Adam squirmed and cursed…

            “I do vaguely remember holding you,” Blake confessed.

            “Dickhead!”

            “Jackass!”

            Adam succeeded in bopping Blake on the head with the wrapping paper.

            “Gimme that!” Blake ordered, grabbing the tube.  He unrolled a long piece of it by the process of holding the free end and giving the tube a shove, sending it rolling away.  Then he started rolling Adam up in the paper.

            “Hey!” Adam protested, squirming.

            “Hold still!  You’re tearing the paper!  You wanted to be wrapped up, I’m wrapping you.  Stop squirming!”

            Adam giggled and squirmed some more.

            “Dammit, Adam!  I’ll tie you up with ribbon if you don’t hold still!”

            “Nooooo!” Adam cried.  “Don’t tie me up!”

            “Then hold still!”

            “Alright.”  Adam’s eyes were closed again.

            Blake wrapped him up, clumsily securing the paper with tape.  Adam held still, or maybe he’d passed out again?  Didn’t matter.  Blake got a few adhesive bows and stuck them to the paper.  Then he got a length of ribbon.  This he gently looped around Adam’s neck, tying it in a big bow.

            “Waya doin’ ta me, Big Country?” Adam slurred, not opening his eyes.

            “Just wrapping my present,” Blake said fondly.  “It’s all I want for Christmas.”

            Adam’s eyes remained closed.  “Did I give it to you?”

            “That you did.”

            “Good,” Adam mumbled.  “I’m the best gift giver!”

            “Sure you are.”  Blake looked around, spotted Adam’s Santa hat, and grabbed it.  Adam’s reindeer antlers had been knocked slightly askew.  Blake adjusted them, replaced the hat, and adjusted his own Santa hat.  Then he lay down behind Adam, holding the smaller man close.  The paper crinkled slightly.  Adam, wrapped in brightly colored Christmas wrap, covered with bows, with Blake’s stocking on one foot and a ribbon around his neck, immediately snuggled in to Blake’s chest.  Blake planted a kiss on his head.  “I love you.”

            “Love you, too,” came the sleepy reply.

            Blake closed his eyes.  Tomorrow, he’d unwrap his present.  But for tonight, he was content to stay just as he was, lying before the fire with the best Christmas gift he’d ever received cradled in his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Nut, I love you for this artwork! Even Mr. Fun had to admit it's beyond adorable *smooch*


End file.
